


Minecraft, But My Friend Is My Dog.

by orphan_account



Category: GeorgeNotFound - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Youtubers, dream - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Beauty and the Beast AU, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Gamers, Gream - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Minecraft, No Smut, Strangers to Friends, Werewolf AU, Witches, YouTubers - Freeform, curse, dreamnotfound, dreamwastaken - Freeform, georgenotfound - Freeform, in game fiction, sapnap - Freeform, they can respawn dont worry, werewolf dream, wolf dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24814849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Werewolf AU I made for my friend Katie before Georges videos come out. English isn't my first language. I am trying to change some things to make it work better for the video. I will try to upload regularly. Dont ship them IRL or bother them.•George washes up on an island after a plague causes mass amounts of zombies and suddenly hears a mans voice inside of his head. When they meet...he is a dog! Beauty and the Beast/Werewolf AU!
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)/Other(s)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 198





	1. Chapter 1

George coughs and spits out ocean water as the waves finally release him. The sand of the shore is rough against his skin but he's happy to be back on land. After his boat was destroyed by a trident, he clung to driftwood for endless days, praying the current would bring him to shore. Gazing up with salt burned eyes, he spots trees. Grand oak trees and slender birch trees fill him with joy, he isnt dead after all. With nobody else around, he jumps up and shouts. "Woo-hoo!" he screams, dancing under the afternoon sun. He starts to harvest a log so that he can craft a basic set of wooden tools with his renewed sense of life. He has regained the hope he lost during those weeks at sea.

"Where are you?" says a voice, and George stops suddenly. He crouches behind his crafting bench, looking around nervously. "H-Hello?"

"Where are you?!" the deep voice repeats, a little more frantic, "I don't see you! Show yourself!" 

George holds his breath, waiting for this mysterious man to jump out and kill him. Time ticks by and not a single twig snaps, there are no footsteps. "Um...where are you?" he asks after cautiously resuming harvesting lumber. The voice groans, he can't tell what direction its coming from.

"If you wont tell me where you are, then can you tell me  _ who  _ you are?" The voice asks, sounding a little frustrated. "I'm George." he says simply, using a little extra wood to make a wooden sword. It wont do much damage, but itll work incase he needs it. With all of his new items secured in his inventory, George sets out towards the surface cave a few hundred blocks away. Stone tools and maybe some iron will make him feel a little safer. 

"Hi George, where are you?" the voice asks bluntly, and George laughs. "W-what?!" he demands, causing George to laugh even more. "You're kind of rude you know, maybe I dont want to be found." Thats not necessarily true, but the disembodied voice's annoyance is a little endearing. He hasn't heard another person since the plague started and the voice's strange accent causes warmth to spread in his chest.

He crafts a set of stone tools, using his wooden ones to power his furnace. The iron smelts slowly as the furnace illuminates the cave. 

"I don't like you George, and your accent is stupid." the voice says and George imagines the man pouting. "Like I said, rude." he giggles, realizing that this man is nowhere near him. He sets off to find some sheep to get food and make a bed for the night. A hole in the wall base will do for tonight. The sun creeps down slowly. 

George advances towards a field, letting out a little noise of excitement. Cows, at least ten, graze in the meadow in front of him. "It's like...moo moo meadows or something!" he says quietly to himself, something he does often as hes always alone. The voice gasps. "Youre at a meadow! Im going to find you George." George kills a few of the cows, collecting their meat and leather.

"How can we hear each other if we arent even close by?" George asks, returning to the temporary base to craft a smoker for his beef before it turns into rotten flesh. "I don't know," the voice answers flippantly "I'm kind of surprised you can speak English." 

George blinks at the newly installed oak door. "Thats a little racist, don't you think? But I do speak English, clearly, Im from England." he laughs again, something he hasnt done in a very long time, but has done very often since arriving on this strange land. "I meant you dont speak Villagese!" the voice squawks, chuckling a little, "I didn't know England still had people in it." he says casually. "It doesn't, thats kind of why Im here." George says sadly, sighing and resting his head on his hands as he watches a bat fly around aimlessly. "Oh, sorry. Welcome to Florida, I guess." the voice says, kindness seeping into his words. George smiles and clears some more stone. 

The sun has almost disappeared and George finally sets up his bed. "It's almost night time, do you have a house?" George asks, shivering inside his damp little cave. He makes himself a campfire for warmth, waiting for the reply. The unseen man's voice is smooth, like polished diorite, and in just a few hours George already finds comfort in it's replies. They exchange jokes sometimes, but unless George instigates a short conversation he sits in silence. The man has stopped asking for his location, but responds quickly whenever George talks. 

"Im not really the house building type, I kind of just drift around." he says, his voice sounding a little hollow.

George untucks his white covers and slides into bed for the first time in forever, moaning quietly as his muscles finally relax into the plush wool pillow. "Dude, whatever you're doing I can hear it!" the voice says, pitch raising slightly. "Oh sorry, its just been so long since I've laid down in a bed. I can barely keep my eyes open." George smiles softly, his eyes already closed and his sunglasses folded on the floor next to him. He cracks open one of his eyes and scans the small room hes made, hoping to have finally seen this mystery man and feeling a little disappointed that he wasnt there. "I thought you were….nevermind. Just go to sleep, Im finding you in the morning." the man says confidently.

George yawns and rolls over in his bed, trying to imagine what it will be like to meet this strange man. He wonders if he looks as handsome as his voice sounds. "Are you going to help me make my house?" he asks sleepily, feeling his pulse pick up a little at the idea of finally settling back into normal life. He's almost asleep when the voice responds, "Maybe, I don't really know."

George hums gently, his lazy smile growing. "Whats your name?" he asks, just incase the man doesnt talk to him through this strange way in the morning, or incase he doesnt survive the night. "Clay." the man says simply, George pushing some air out of his nose. "Shut up George." he says playfully and if he didnt know better George wouldve thought he was just talking to a friend back home. It was easy to talk to this Clay guy.

"Goodnight, Clay." he says after another yawn, slowly tumbling into a deep sleep. " 'Night, George. See you tomorrow." George snuggles a little further under his blanket. "Yeah, see you tomorrow. "

•

When George wakes up in a bed, it takes him a moment to remember where he is. A hole in a cave wall, in the state of Florida. Waiting for  _ Clay.  _ George is suddenly nervous, it's been so long since hes been around another person.

He wanders over to a pond and tries to smooth down his messy hair. Since it is so overgrown from his time at sea, he crafts himself a pair of sheers to attempt a decent haircut. It's choppy, but he feels a lot more confident now.

He really was excited to start building a house, finally he could have a real chance to relax. " _ Oh George!~ _ " Clay says, causing George to jump.

He runs to peak out of the holes in the door. "I don't see you!" George says, glancing around. The other man is silent for a moment. "You will soon, just dont freak out." he says in a very stern tone, reminding George to be on guard with this new stranger. 

A patch of gray passes through some grass just beyond the cave opening and George gasps out loud. "Clay! Ooh! Clay, I found a wolf!" He squeals, digging through his bag for the necessary items to tame it. Clay hasnt said anythint about this wolf, so maybe it isnt his.

"Here puppy! Whose a good boy?! Come here doggy!" George coos, crouching slowly towards the gray wolf. George pushes up his sunglasses and grins, offering out the grilled steak. "Clay, his fur is so beautiful, where are you? Hurry up and get here!"

The wolf turns around and stares at George, right in the eyes. Suddenly, in a very human way, the dog rolls its eyes at him. Georges jaw drops in shock. The wolf takes the steak from his hands and starts to eat it. "Thanks for the steak George, I've been eating rotten flesh for weeks." Clay says in his mind.

**_Oh shit!_ **


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay and George start to get to know each other to discuss the curse from witch. We find out how George got to Florida.
> 
> Triger Warning: Mothers death flashback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this is the last edited chapter I have that is not changed from my friend's gift so I have to do the others. There is around 11 parts left but I could ad more later if you like it. 
> 
> -Stuffs [they/them]

"You're a dog?!" George screams, clapping his hands. "This is so cool, youre a magic dog!" He laughs as Clay the Dog rolls his eyes again. 

"Im not a dog, George," he says sounding frustrated "Im a person. I just have a curse, one that youre going to help me break." George is barely paying attention as Clay explains the curse. "How are you talking if your muzzle isnt moving?" 

Clay growls and snarls, causing George to hold his stone sword a little tighter as he backs up. "Because its a curse! You're such an idiot! I'm thinking and you can hear me talking, thats all that matters! Im not a witch, I dont know why or how, okay?" He sounds frustrated and very salty, so George just nods.

"What do I have to do to help you?" he asks as the two of them walk back towards his temporary base. George occasionally glances at the wolf next to him, still in awe that this was even possible! Then again, if someone told George a few years ago that zombies and armed skeletons would take over the world, he wouldnt have believed them.

"She said a bottle of dragons breath and true love's kiss, how cliche is that last one right?!" Clay says, exasperated. George's heart flutters. "Just like Beauty and the Beast!" The wolf stops walk and turns around to look at him for a moment. "Yeah, more than you realize." They keep walking while George's mind races.

He sits down on his new bed, while Clay lays on the floor. "Im not a furry, how am I supposed to fall in love with you if youre a dog?!" George suddenly blurts out.

In a very canine way, Clay tilts his head to the side. "I need you to help me find a  _ girl _ ." He doesn't sound mad or disgusted, but George is still embarrassed. "Sorry." The first person he meets in he doesn't even know how long, and he already humiliates himself. Clay throws his head back and laughs, barking out loud but cracking up in George's head. "Dude, your cheeks are so pink!"

George throws his hands up in fake frustration. "What?! Even a dog can see color and I can't?!" Clay laughs even harder, starting to wheeze a little bit, rolling on the stone floor. George smiles at him, realizing that there might be a friendship here after all. 

After the wolf calms down, Clay stands up and walks over to George's bed. He looks away from his furnace to watch as he gently places a paw on top of the blankets. A dark black paw print smudges on his white blanket. "Bad dog!" George says, teasingly, and points to the door. "Go take a bath in the pond before you sleep in my bed!" He laughs just for good measure when Clay glares at him. 

"How about I go kill some sheep, then you make me my own bed and some dinner." He says, trotting over to the door. George agrees, opening it for him, before going back to smelting his iron ore.

He hears sheep bleating as they run from Clay and he just stares into the coals. Does George really want to help a magic wolf break a curse? How is George even supposed to know he was really human, let alone if he deserves to have the curse broken. 

George decides to wait until he knows he can trust Clay to ask why he was cursed, but knowing that this might be his last chance at human companionship he decides to help him in his quest.

The sun is setting by the time Clay brings back mutton and wool, his silver fur looking clean of dirt and blood. George makes him a bed and cooks the meat for him silently, deep in thought. Clay cant hear George's thoughts, which is probably a good thing.

"So how are you able to talk to me from so far away?" George asks while cutting his steak. Clay tears off a chunk of mutton with his terrifyingly sharp teeth and chews while still talking in George's head. "Its kind of like of I have to think about talking. I dont know why I could hear you or vice versa, but I could. Hmm…" he licks up some of the blood that dribbled onto his paw. "Are you all human?"

George nods. There were plenty of Villagers in England and they were a lot more resistant to the zombie virus than the human population was. "Maybe thats it then. If I want Villagers to understand me I have to- um...nevermind." He grows quiet and the small room George built is just full of uncomfortable silence and even more uncomfortable chewing sounds. "Have to what?" he asks, if only to not here the dog noisily eating.

"Bite them and give them a potion." Clay says simply, making eye contact with George. His heart races and his eyebrows shoot up. "Please dont bite me Clay, promise me you wont bite me?!" he says, his already high voice getting higher.

Clay exhales and rolls his eyes. "You can already understand me, you idiot. Its not just a bite, they need an elixir too. Im still a person, I dont just kill for no reason. I promise Im not going to maul you." He sounds a little offended so George apologizes again. Clay shrugs his shoulders. So many of his gestures and body language is so humany that its almost as unsettling as it is comforting.

"So tell me George, what brings you to Florida?" Clay asks, sighing into his plush bed. George begins to tell him the story.

~

_ "George! Let's go!" his mother yells, rowing her oar with all of her effort. Shes bleeding from the arrow in her shoulder and it stains her blouse. George's arms ache, days of no sleep and no food are catching up to him.  _

_ There was always the zombie virus, but recently it had mutated. More and more people were getting sick and turning, civilization was crumbling. They were the only two left from his family and his mom was desperate to give him a chance to live. _

_ She was bitten seven days ago. Everyone already assumed everyone was infected but the virus didnt seem to activate until after the host died. The bite just sped up the process by increasing risks of infections, blood loss, and other factors that could lead to death from any wound. The skeletons arrow was just above her severely infected bite, causing even more blood loss. They hadnt eaten or slept in days, just paddling as fast as they could. They were too weak to take shifts, they each needed an oar. _

_ "George, baby?" his mother says, her voice shaking. She takes off her favorite sunglasses and George can see her tears clean lines down her dirty face. George stops rowing. _

_ "Mum? We are going to be okay, once we get to land theyll have a doctor for you. Im sure we can find a village, maybe they have someone there who knows English and can get us some help!" He says, starting to cry himself. The salt water spray burned his eyes as he looked at her. _

_ "Its easier to just rest right now Georgie. Im going to swim down to see if I can catch us some fish, okay?" She says softly, giving him the saddest smile he has ever seen. Hes a grown man, he knows what this is. "Mum, youre too weak to swim and catch fish right now. I dont want t-" _

_ She cuts him off. "George, your father and I love you very much. You are kind, brave, loyal, and you always put others before yourself. I am more proud of you than you will ever understand." He wants to stop her. To tell her hes stubborn, too competitive, sometimes even selfish, but when he opens his mouth she just keeps talking over him. _

_ "Please, as your mother, let me die knowing I did something to save my boy besides getting him stranded at sea. We know I dont have much longer, you just need some food and some rest. Please George, let me do this for you." He gets his stubbornness from her, he knew she would do it with or without his permission. He sobs loudly while nodding his head, pulling her into a hug. The whole boat rocks and she makes a small sound of pain, but they just hold each other for awhile.  _

_ Before she dives into the water with their small stone knife, she hands him her sunglasses. As a little kid he would wear them around the house while wearing his dad's work boots. At least he had something to remember her by. _

_ George lays on the rowboat that suddenly went from way too small to way too big. When he looks over the edge he sees freshly killed cod rising to the surface but he doesnt see his mom. He grabs the fish from the water as they come up but after the fourteenth fish they stop coming. The waves are getting rougher and his mother hasnt come back up for air in awhile. The waves carry him further away from her diving point. _

_ She mightve gotten stuck on a shipwreck, eaten by another animal, bled to death, drowned, George didnt know. All he knew was his mother was a hero and he wouldnt let her die in vain. _

_ George makes the fish last a long time by only picking pieces off every day, using the salt forming on the inside of the boat to dry it into a fish jerky under the cruel sun. He even chews on the bones, spitting blood over the side of the boat.  _

_ After his fish run out with some of his energy restored he goes fishing. Its haunting, knowing that this is what his mother was doing when she died, but he had to survive for her. The boat drifts aimlessly for many day and night cycles that George loses track, he saves more energy by just drifting. His face is sunburnt and hes so thirsty that when it rains he almost doesnt realize the dangers coming. _

_ The storm hydrates him but capsizes his boat at least three times before the zombie with the trident finally makes a giant hole in the bottom. His small boat starts to sink and he can barely stay above water, how will he fight the current to swim to freedom.  _

_ Luckily he escapes the zombie, but on the driftwood he clings to hes more at risk than ever. He barely survives by chewing on the kelp that gets tangled around his limbs. When he sees the trees on the horizon it seems fake, maybe hes hallucinating.  _

_ George checks his body for indication that he couldve been poisoned by a pufferfish or other sea animal, but it gets closer and closer. Its really land, he has a chance. He kicks his legs as hard as he can with adrenaline pumping in his body, the closer he gets to shore the easier it gets. It is like the coast is calling to him in his mothers voice. The waves break against the wet sand and it tears tiny cuts into his skin, the waves rolling him under but he keeps fighting.  _

_ ~ _

George wipes his eyes, this being the first time hes had to talk about her death to another person since it happened.

Clays snout nuzzles his arm and George hugs him around the neck, sobbing into soft fur. "Thank you for sharing that with me George, Im really sorry for your loss." he says gently, seeming a lot different from the very confident and strong headed man hes shown himself to be over today. 

"Thanks for listening, it feels a little bit better to talk about it. Ive decided that my mom would want me to help you, so Im going to. We will find you a girlfriend, get whatever dragon breath is, and get you human again. You have my word." He says after a yawn.

They both lay down on their beds to fall asleep so they can start their journey when they wake up. 

George dreams of his mother walking through a field of cornflowers next to George and a gray wolf.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter and more information on Clays curse. Details also about Clay in person and in wolf form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this! Please leave comments if you do :3 I know my grammar is not the best but hopefully it is readable to English speakers.

George was starting to like this guy Clay being around, he was good company. Theyd make up games to play to pass time while traveling, he was witty, he could be very intelligent  _ or  _ very stupid depending on his mood. His laugh was contagious and the way he rolled his green eyes about everything quickly became a warm gesture. George is glad he found such a good friend and wondered about Clays life as a human. 

"I don't know, it was whatever. I pretty much just traveled around doing whatever I wanted. I wasn't really the type to set up a carrot farm if you know what I mean." He leaps from a dark oak branch to the top of a nearby oak tree. Being a large gray wolf gave him different levels of flexibility, higher jumping heights, and heightened senses. Clay told him stories of doing urban parkour before the plague and George was impressed that his skills still held up in this form.

Clay has  _ much  _ more experience in  _ everything  _ than George, something that became very obvious. George had never really left his home village that much, whereas Clay seemed to be a born adventurer. He killed his first creeper at the age of 12 and he often told tales of dangerous revines. For someone scared of heights, the wolf loved jumping off cliffs into pools at the bottom of revines or into lakes they passed.

Today is one of the days George has to stop to fully admire Clays confidence. Somehow, a zombie managed to get into the tall trees. That's why Clay was jumping, trying to get to it before it noticed them. Clay makes split second decisions in mid air, looking absolutely gracefully while doing it. George used to watch dog show highlights online, Clay could have won every medal.

The zombie finally spots Clay and moans loudly. Their movements are slow but they are stronger than they look. Clay uses his powerful tail to swipe the zombies legs, causing it to fall. Clay jumps back and forth until he is back on the ground, and he bites the zombie on the neck until it stops moving.

"That always creeps me out." George says with a shrug. "Knowing youre a person and seeing you bite them like that or when I watch you hunt animals, its weird. Impressive, but weird."

Clay gives him a teasing eye roll and his tail wags playfully, something George decided several days ago not to mention. "Well I can't hold items, I can't make or wear armour, and I certainly can't hold a sword. That's kind of the point of a curse, to make life suck." Clay trots ahead, staring down into the river they need to cross.

Whenever he saw his reflection, he tend to stare for a few moments. "My eyes are still green, but my hair is gray." He said once, just looking down intensely. "What color was your h-" George started to ask, just trying to make conversation. "Dark blond." is all Clay said bluntly before jumping into the puddle.

Wading through the water while Clay doggy paddles always causes the dirt and grime of daily life to wash away. Clay's fur got caked in dirt and blood very quickly, so anytime they saw water they wouldn't need to drink from he liked to wash off. George never saw Clay groom himself like a dog, a question he seemed very offended by. George still doesn't know much about the curse, but he tries to let it come naturally to Clay.

The way he shakes his fur dry makes George laugh and Clay just laughs because George does, without knowing why. George cant remember the last time he felt carefree enough to let his guard down, probably not since he was a kid. 

The humanity in Clay being so obvious made things very weird for George. Sometimes he would close his eyes when they talked, just to try and imagine what it would be like if Clay was a human. Sometimes it made him sad, not being able to imagine Clays face. Was it strange to blush when a wolf gives you a compliment?

"George?" Clay asks, looking away from the coals of their campfire and at George while he smelted ores. "Hm?" he says, looking up and not realizing that it was already becoming evening. "You seem...stressed. I can sense your blood pressure skyrocketing." One of the dog like qualities to Clay, he notices those little changes.

"Can you fetch me my axe?" George says, pointing over to his pile of supplies he left at their camp for the night. Earlier in their friendship Clay would have gotten angry at the word fetch, feeling insulted by accidental dog themed wording, but now he just laughs and drags over the axe. If the iron one wasn't so useful, he would get a wooden one just so Clay can carry it easier. "Now will you tell me what's up? You're acting weird dude." 

George sighs. "After the curse is over, will we still be friends?" Clays ears perk up, as if his whole body focused entirely on George's words. "Um, I guess so, yeah." is all he says, but George knows him well enough by now to know what he really meant. "Really? If you're not the settling down type then once you're human again you'll go adventuring again. Which means we won't see each other again, I won't even have a place to send you letters." 

Clays tail drops and his ears lay flat. He has a sad puppy look on his face and his head dips low. George's heart pounds thinking about never seeing Clay again once he becomes human. Clays ears perk up for a moment when Georges heart races, something he can definitely hear. "Oh come on George, don't be upset. Who knows how long it'll take to cure me?" George nods sadly.

Clay moves closer, hitting his forehead on George's shoulder. "Hey, you could come adventuring with me! We can just keep exploring!" His voice is high, like he's trying to convince George he isn't as sad as he looks. George is happy he hasn't mentioned how Clays dog body language gives him away, because Clay is great at lying. 

"How would that work Clay? You'll have your girlfriend and I actually enjoy farming. I don't know if I'd live in any type of village again, but I want a life one day that isn't running around the wilderness." They are both quiet for a while as the sun continues to sink. The thought of them not being friends anymore hurts George badly, the realization that their friendship is more important than he cares to admit makes him feel uncomfortable. 

"No reason to get worried about it now, lets just keep having fun ok?" Clay says, walking into their home for the night. George cleans up his things and goes to lay down on his bed.

"Clay?" he asks sleepily, his eyes closed and his voice soft. Clay just hums in acknowledgment, mostly asleep as well. "Can I pet your ears?" he asks, letting his hand fall onto Clays nearby bed. After some silence he agrees and George reaches over to his head.

He's never pet Clay before, it just feels weird to pet an animal you know is a human, but his fur was surprisingly soft. After a few moments he stops and pulls his hand away. The texture of the fur was soothing, it was just enough to ease his mind and help him fall asleep. "Your furs soft. Thanks." he mumbles into his pillow. It was a weird moment, but George fell asleep with a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay is acting strange and George comes face to no face with a monster.

Clay has been acting  _ weird  _ since yesterday. He seems very tense, he isn't as talkative as usual, and he keeps asking what time it is from George's newly made gold pocket watch. Sometimes when they stop walking Clay stares at him strange. 

George didn't really know what to do, Clay ate a lot of rotten flesh last night because they only found one pig all day. He hopes Clay isn't sick, he has no medical knowledge at all especially for dogs or humans that are cursed to be dogs.

By the time it was noon, George is fed up. "Are you going to tell me what I did or are you going to keep acting like you don't want to be around me?" He demands, trying to not sound sad. "George, it's not like that. It's just complicated alright, just drop it." Clay snaps, stomping ahead of him. 

Clay goes into a shallow cave and sits down. "We are sleeping here." he says. Usually they pick a place together since George is the one who has to do the building to set up camp. He looks up at the sky and then down at his small clock. "Clay, it's not even 5pm yet. We could go a lot further before it gets dark an-" Clay cuts him off with a growl. "We are sleeping here."

George fights back tears of frustration and just throws his hands up. "Fine. After I set up your stuff I'm going to get more supplies." He walks over and begins his work silently. Clay sits, unmoving, just watching. He feels like a small prey animal under the wolfs focused stare, starting to sweat a little bit.

Clay has only growled at him once before, all those weeks ago when they were still kind of strangers. It scared him to remember he really didn't know anything more about this man that wasn't directly from his own words. He didn't know if Clay would turn on him. Being mauled by a giant wolf can't be a fun way to die. Suddenly their small camp feels like it's closing in on him and George abruptly stands up. Clay glares at him as he walks towards the flimsy oak door.

For the first time since they met, George feels alone. He walks by himself, holding his sword and shield tightly. Zombies moan in the distance and he can hear far away rattling from skeletons. The sun sinks lower and lower but George is just lazily picking up apples and mining surface coal. There was tons of it on the uneven surface of the mountain he climbed up, the repetitive nature of mining relaxing him. 

The full moon overhead was beautiful, George reaches out his hand towards it. Hes so high up that he feels like he could touch it if he was just a little bit taller. The stars twinkle brightly and the cool night air soothes his never ending sunburns. Just as he's about to speak out to call Clay to come feel this mountain magic, he hears a blood curding howl.

"Clay!" George instantly starts climbing down as fast as he can, slipping and stumbling on rocks and gravel. He falls a few feet, his hands and knees getting scraped by the ground. George starts running in the direction of their camp but the fear grows worse as he realizes just how far away he is. Before he can even get half way back the pained howling stops. The silence at the top of the mountain was peaceful but now the sound of his worn down iron boots against the ground was haunting.

He finally sees the torch on the outside of the door and calls out for Clay again, still with no answer. He throws the door open and cant see Clay anywhere. The torches he placed on the walls are gone and George is too worried to think of stopping to make new ones. George feels the wall to go around the dark room to see if Clay was laying unconscious when he feels a breeze pass him. The door opens and a figure runs out and slams it.

It takes George a second to process what just happened before he runs after the figure. "Stop! Get back here!" he screams. His heart is pounding and his body aches but the adrenaline keeps him going. The figure wearing Clays blanket as a cloak is much faster than George. He jumps over fallen logs while George chooses to go around them, he zig zags through the trees to confuse George, and he keeps throwing stones behind him. 

George can't see very well in the dark so he stumbles alot but he is determined to catch this person and find out what happened to Clay. "Stop running! What the hell did you do to my friend?" he screams his voice cracking more than he would like. The man says nothing, scaling a tree in front of George and running along the branches. If only Clay were here to help with the chase but now George just has to follow from the ground. 

After the forest ends and the plains roll out in front of them the man jumps down from the tree, moaning of pain but continuing to run. He is slower now and George is getting closer. Once they're only a couple blocks apart George starts taking coal out of his pockets to throw at the man. His aim isn't so good but he gets a couple good hits in and it seems to slow the man down a small amount. "I'm not letting you get away with whatever you did to him!" George roars, a large lump of coal hitting the man directly in the back of the head. 

He stops and turns around but the cloak covers his face in the night. He takes out a sword and George knows it's his because the handle is made of the acacia wood he collected for that very purpose. He is taller than George and stands with confidence, the posture of someone who actually knows how to hold his own in a sword fight. 

Anger turns into fear when the man takes a step forward and George scramples back a few blocks. The figures sword glints in the moonlight as he adjusts his grip. Suddenly he is lunging at George.

George turns around and runs through the tall grass, going from the hunter to the hunted. For some strange reason George feels like this man is holding back, someone with this many survival skills should easily be able to take out someone as untrained as George. He chases him away, sheathing his sword in favor of running while shooting George's stolen bow. 

George runs towards the light he sees far away, hoping it's the campsite. He would give this demon anything he wanted, he could take everything, as long as George lived to know what happened to his friend. Or he could barricade himself in with stone and wait for the man to give up. Either way, it was all he could think of. 

The man drops down in front of him from the small hill he's passing just as George realizes the fatal mistake he's just made. It's a surface pool of lava, if he was a few blocks closer the figure could simply knock him into the pit to burn. In the light George can clearly see his soon to be killer.

The first thing George notices is that the man is a zombie, or at least has the skin of one. He has never heard of an intelligent zombie and certainly not one that can moves like this. His skin is what George's mother described as a sickly dark green, but he doesn't seem to have any decomposing body parts. If anything he looks like he has a lot of lean muscles, which explains why he is such an agile being. 

He's wearing the crudely made leather tunic George made a few days ago. It's clearly too small for him as the seems are pulled tight and it doesn't cover his whole midriff. Clay had found him blue orchids in a swamp they traveled through and showed George how to dye leather. The figures leather pants also have stressed seems but it looks like he cut the pants into shorts. George still can't see his face but the man raises his sword. 

The shield comes up long before the sword is even swing down but George barely notes that as strange because he screams so loud his voice hurts. He pushes the shield into the body and tries to run towards the other side of the large lava pool, but the figure simply leaps across it and stops him. George swings his damaged iron sword wildly just hoping to hit him and he makes a shallow cut along the man's side. The figure throws its head back and screams in pain when the hood falls back to make George notice something else.

He has no face. No eyes, nose, mouth, just skin. George feels his mouth drop open in horror, his eyes wide with terror. He's seen many strange but dangerous creatures in his life, like the creepers and endermen. He has  _ never  _ seen a creature like this. The glow of the lava illuminates him and makes him look even more menacing. "What did you do to my friend?" he screams again.

The being smacks his shield away easily like he could've done it the entire time. He pushes George to the ground and George kicks him in the leg with his iron boots. He scrambles backwards for only a moment before the being is on him again.

It picks him up easily, as if he was a stuffed toy and not an adult man. It holds him over the lava and he can feel the heat scorching his back. He waits for it to drop him in when he is instead slammed against the trunk of a tree and the  _ thing  _ squeezes his throat. It's not enough to cut off the air, but it's a threat that George believes he would carry through. "My….dog…." he gasps, tears starting to flow as he realizes he might actually die. 

The monster lets him fall to the ground and takes off sprinting, George tries to catch up but without his bow he has almost no chance to land another hit since the creature has so much of a head start. George follows him to the water and stops just before the beach line. The demon gets into a small rowboat that reminds him too much of the one him and his mother tried to escape England in. His shoulders drop and all of the fight leaves his body. He has nobody, again.

The monster doesn't row away immediately, it sits in the water watching him. George feels like hes waiting for him to continue the chase and through the sadness he is angry. He throws down his damaged sword and almost destroyed shield. "Go! Get out of here! Haven't you done enough? You killed him!" he cries but the figure still watches him. 

"Leave! You killed my friend and if you're not going to kill me what's the point? Just go find another dog to kill if you have nothing better to do!" He screams, launching small rocks and his remaining coal towards the boat. He misses all of his throws while the monster just sits there. 

"I just got back to camp where are you?" Clay says quietly, barely audible. George backs away before turning around to run towards his friend. He is so relieved that Clay is alive that he doesn't realize he isn't hearing his voice in his head. He looks over his shoulder once to see the figure rowing away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George finds Clay

George finally finds their camp by noon the next day. He opens the door calling for Clay but he's nowhere to be found. "I thought you said you were here!" he says with panic in his voice. "I was, I went to go look for you." he says quietly, like he wants to say more. "I'm by a pool of lava" he says and George shutters, almost like he can feel the deadly heat just by thinking about it.

"Let me pack up what's left, that  _ thing  _ stole some of our stuff." George says with anger, slamming open chests and pulling out their contents. He wanders back towards the lava pool and is thankful he placed so many pillars on his way back. Clay is quiet so George is too. He is alone with his thoughts and they are all about how he will kill the thing he saw last night.

When he finally gets back to the lava pool the sun is setting and there is no time to find a cave. George does an old trick his mother taught him. He stands between four trees that are close together and piles cobblestones and mud around the open areas. Soon he has four makeshift walls with a little hole big enough for his small body to crawl through. There's no roof but he chops down a few planks of wood to hastily cover the top. After placing a torch, all that is left is Clay.

He hears footsteps and his heart pounds, wondering if it's that terrifying faceless monster. Instead, it's Clay. His ears are back, his head and tail are down. He limps slowly to George with a sad expression on his face.

George runs to him, dropping to his knees and holding open his arms. Clay sulks as he slowly talks towards George and accepts the tight hug. George smiles against the furry body. "I thought you were dead!" He says, hearing his voice crack. Clay just sits there silently letting George hug him. George feels his heart beating underneath his heavy fur.

When he pulls away to ask what's wrong, he notices why Clay is acting weird. His midsection is cut a little and his paw is elevated slightly off the ground. "Oh gosh!" George gasps. Clays ears lay further back and he won't meet George's eyes. It must've been that terrible creature that hurt him!

George pats Clay on the head, like he was a real dog, and stands up. He stomps over to where he dropped his sword and he grabs it with a tight fist. He swings it a few times like a baseball bat before returning to Clay. The wolf flinches as George holds it up to the light. "Do you see how hard I worked on this sword?" He asks in a serious tone. His empty hand shakes in a small fist. Clay doesn't answer but George continues.

"I thought at the time it was too much effort. I usually just stay with an axe, but I really felt like in this new place I needed to be extra protected. I'm glad I did, I think it's more fitting if I slay a monster that horrible with a sword." Clay whimpers and George suddenly comes out of his angry rant.

He drops to his knees again, letting the sword fall. He pets Clays head, hoping to soothe his friend. "Don't cry Clay, I know what happened and now that I see you're hurt it makes a lot of sense why you were gone." Suddenly Clays ears perk up a bit. "It does?" he asks in George's head. "Yeah, Im not stupid!" he exclaims. "Then why did you say all that crap about the sword!" Clay asks nervously and glances at it.

"You're so...capable. The survival stunts you do are amazing and I know you've taken care of yourself for so long, even as a wolf." George says, smiling softly at him. "When I heard the howling I knew you were hurt. I was worried when you werent there that you got killed and your body was taken away by that bloody demon to wear as a fur coat or something. Now I realize you were just embarrassed because you thought you should have been able to defend our camp. It stole a bunch of stuff from us, but as long as we are both alive that's all I care about. You don't have to be a badass for me Clay, but maybe you can show me some human safe moves for when we can get revenge together."

Clay stares at him. His ears are in different directions, his eyes are wide, and his jaw is dropped. He blinks quickly and shakes his head and his ears stand normally. "Uh...yeah. Sure. Thanks for understanding." He says very softly, pawing at the grass. George beams at him. "Of course! Now I have a quest too!" He goes to gather their supplies and he looks up at the sun. It sinks slowly towards the horizon. "Come on dog, let's just go make dinner in my shack." Clay is still quiet but trots after him.

"What did you think of him?" he asks out of the blue, still having not eaten his chicken. George stares into the coals since they remind him of the lava. "At first, I thought it was a person. Just some petty thief. I would have negotiated or something if I didn't hear you howl. I chased it like an animal and I got a few blows in. I thought it was going to throw me in the lava but I was so mad I thought it killed you." His voice is softer from tiredness but there is a sharp edge of rage. "His face." Clay says simply but in a tone to sound like he wants more information. 

George shutters. "It looked grotesque. The proportions were humanoid but the skin was discolored. It looked rotten like a zombie but when I slashed it, there was fresh blood. The face was the worst part. Just...nothing. My brain felt like it was short circuiting, how could something that agile not have any sensory organs." He shakes his head. "I should have killed it when I had the chance, but I heard your voice. I hope I can find it again."

Clay rests his head on George's pillow on the floor. "I never took you as the type for revenge Georgie." He sounds sad but George figures it's just from being tired. "I'm not, I've just never seen anything like it before. It was so smart and skillful. I never saw a monster react so human before. If it hurt what it thought was a pet dog and nearly killed me over some shitty items, imagine what it would do to people with better items. I don't know, I just had such a bad feeling about it all."

In the morning they walk on like nothing changed. George tries hard not to let Clay's injuries distract him so much but his heart aches for his friend. Hopefully once they complete Clay's quest to turn him human again they can catch it. Thinking of it being that long suddenly made the hair on George's neck stand up. What if they crossed paths again sooner?


End file.
